Aurora Borealis
by CrystallineMaple
Summary: "I love you." Three couples, three love stories, and countless complications. But still, they love each other, because you would do anything for the one you love. RusBel, UsUK, DenNor, hints of AusHun, PrusHun, Spamano and SuFin. AU.
1. Ivan Braginsky

IVAN BRAGINSKY

"But you'd, like, want that, right? It's cool, man, when chicks dig ya."

"I know that," I say, sighing. Offering to meet up with one of my friends Alfred Jones for coffee this early in the morning was probably not a good idea. Allow me to introduce myself- Ivan Braginsky, poor little spoiled boy who lives alone off of daddy's riches.

We're discussing Katyusha Braginskaya- actually Alfred seems to like her a lot, but she's showing an interest in me, unfortunately. She is a very nice girl, but I am not fond of her as anything more than a good friend.

Alfred takes a huge gulp of his coffee and wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket. "Shoot, dude, imma be late for work if I stick around for much longer. See you soon!"

"Bye," I say, taking my time to finish my drink. I don't need to be at my office for at least forty-five minutes, plenty of time to ease myself into a particularly sleepy Monday morning.

Alfred and I have actually been friends since middle school, long ago, although we've known each other since kindergarten. I don't remember exactly how we became friends, and I'm sure Alfred doesn't either, he's not exactly sentimental.

I stand up, stretch, and make it just in time to catch the train to work. A couple of my employees- Toris Laurinaitis, Eduard von Bock and Raivis Galante- sit at computers, typing. Eduard nods at me when I walk in, but that's it. I am not so sure why those three are so scared of me, but whatever.

"Did that girl come in yet?" Raivis asks.

"What girl?" I say.

Eduard adjusts his glasses. "I guess not, then. I heard something about a girl trying out for a job here...? Perhaps I was mistaken."

"Um, no." I open my laptop and get a second cup of coffee. The coffee at the office is not high quality and someone's taken all the sugar, but what can you expect for free? If it were up to me, I'd allow vodka at work, but even as a boss, I can't go quite that far.

"Did you mean Natalia Arlovskaya?" I ask, riffing through a file drawer on my desk. "She's set up for an interview later today."

"That'd be weird," Raivis says quietly, mostly focused on his laptop's screen.

"What would?" I say.

"Oh, I just mean having a girl in here," Raivis answers. "You know, with all this computer technology stuff, you don't just see girls every day."

"Elizabeta, though," Toris says, referring to the kind-hearted brunette who works a floor above us.

"Hmm, you're right," Raivis mumbles. "Some girls are in this job industry, I guess. But not many."

"She might not get the job," I say. "Just keep that in mind."

"Oh, I know, Mr. Braginsky," Raivis says. "I was just thinking about that."

During lunch break, I find out I have a missed call from Alfred, so I decide to respond quickly before Natalia Arlovskaya arrives for her interview.

"Alfred."

"Ivan!"

"You called?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah! So I was on the train, and guess who I saw?"

"I don't know."

"Katyusha Braginskaya!"

I laugh. "Ahh. So, did she say she liked you? Or something? Ask you out on a date? I hear that French restaurant is really good. What's it called again?"

"Well, not exactly, but I'll bet she is, dude! She asked if we could hang out sometime."

Toris approaches me timidly. "Sorry, Mr. Braingsky," he whispers. "That girl is here? For the interview?"

"Shit, I'm late!" I exclaim. "Sorry, Alfred, gotta go. I'll call you later."

"No problem, dude. See you."

I rush down a flight of stairs, grabbing the paper she filled out, and meet her in an empty room.

"So sorry," I say, slightly out of breath.

"As the boss, I'd expect you to be on time." Natalia Arlovskaya's voice is unamused and dull, like someone's switched the power button off on a TV. I figure she's joking, and wait for her to crack a smile, but she just keeps staring at me with slightly annoyed looking eyes.

"Um, take a seat," I say, waving at a chair. She sits and I begin. "So, Natalia Arlovskaya..."

.,.,.,.,.,.,

"How'd the interview go?" Eduard asks, walking to his desk, carrying two stacks of paperwork.

"Oh, that girl is very strange," I say, rubbing my forehead, wishing first and foremost for something to drink. I'd even settle for beer at this moment.

"The job?" Eduard prompts. He knows he can ask such questions because, fine, he's my favorite. Raivis and Toris are efficient and productive, and they have no reason to worry about losing their jobs, but Eduard is a real help. I'm thinking about promoting him, perhaps.

"She's getting it," I grumble.

"Why are you giving it to her, then, if you don't seem to like _her?"_

"You should know," I snap, "that I have to choose a person based on their skills, experiences, and such. If, per se, this was a job that required social abilities, pfff. But it's not, and besides, it would be of no help to anyone to turn someone like her down."

"Ah. I'm sorry to bother you. You look kind of upset."

"I'm not upset," I say. "It's just... that girl really bothers me."

"You hate her?"

"Not exactly. I'm kind of scared of her. You'll see her soon, alright? Get back to work."

Eduard nods. "Yessir."

"Don't you?" I ask a minute later. He looks up from the papers splayed across his desk.

"Beg your pardon?"

"You have people who bother you, da? Don't you?"

"Well, yeah. Everybody does. It's nothing to get, um, worked up about."

"Ahh, okay. I know. I know."

Eduard smiles. "Besides, Mr. Braingksy. I'm sure everything will be fine."

I nod. "I hope so."

Nobody speaks for a while, and the only sound is keyboards clicking, people drinking water, and the occasional sniffle, but I can't focus very well.

Natalia Arlovskaya. Natalia Arlovskaya. I can't get her name out of my head. She is like a black cat, she seems to be bad luck.

I wonder, faintly, if she will be the downfall of me.


	2. Alfred Jones

ALFRED JONES

"Can I borrow your cellphone?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, of course. Here." I adjust my glasses. I can't believe it. I, Alfred F. Jones, am basically on a _date _with Katyusha Braginskaya, the girl who, senior year of college, stole my heart.

Let's just say, I'm begging that she's not in love with Ivan. She seems to flirt with him a little, but Katyusha's not really one of those flirtatious girls, so it's hard to know what she's thinking.

I ran into her on the train earlier today; she suggested eating dinner together.

She talks on the phone for a couple of minutes, then hangs up. "Thanks, Al. Here." She hands my back my cell phone. Her fingers brush mine and I look up. She's staring at me.

She blushes and lets go of the phone. "Al..."

"Kat?"

"Yes?" She looks at me. Katyusha is such a sweet, kind girl. She's pretty much the only one who can distort my personality from super-awesome hero to lovesick, stuttering fool in a matter of seconds.

"I think..." I know my face is on fire, but I swallow. "I think I'm in love with you."

Katyusha's eyes widen and I wait for her to say, 'Aww, Al! I love you too!'

Instead, she says, "Oh dear."

"Huh?" My blue eyes widen in surprise. "What?"

"Al, you know I have a boyfriend, right? That's who I just called." She's blushing harder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mislead you. This was supposed to be a friend thing"-

"Kat, it's fine." I reassure her, but on the inside, I feel like someone stabbed me through the heart with a knife. I try to smile. "It's really okay. I mean, I was just joking! Haha! You know, hero stuff!"

"Al..."

"Um, just out of curiosity, who's your boyfriend? Not that I care! I just... You know. Ah! But you don't have to tell me..." I start rambling nervously, wiping my palms on my jeans.

"I'm sorry. His name is Raivis..." Tears a forming in the corners of her eyes.

"H-Hey, now! Why are you crying, Kat? There's no reason to get worked up!"

"I just... Feel bad. Can't we please be friends? You don't hate me?"

"Of course not," I murmur. "I would... Never... Hate... You." I try to picture in my head what this Raivis must have that I don't. Money? Okay, so I'm not rolling in riches like, say, Ivan Braginsky, a close friend of mine, but I'm actually financially stable with saved money for an emergency. Or looks, maybe? I'm nowhere near ugly, but I'm not 'dazzling.'

"Al? Are you okay? You look really pale. And just so you know, Raivis and I have been friends for a really long time. He used to be really short back in high school! But now he's probably even taller than you." She clasps a hand over her mouth. "Oops! No, Al, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I say again. "As long as you're happy, I'm happy." A cliché line, perhaps, but Katyusha smiles. "Thank you."

We take the train home. I don't have a car. Not yet. But I'm getting close. You better believe it!

When Katyusha leaves, I remember she used my cell to call Raivis. I hit Redial and count the rings before he picks up.

One... Two...

"Raivis Galante! May I help you?"

"Um, this is Alfred Jones."

"I'm sorry? Do I know you? I'm not so good with names."

"Do you know Katyusha Braginskaya?"

"She's my girlfriend. Why?" I can hear panic raising in his voice.

"Don't worry! I'm her friend. She called you earlier on my cellphone...? She's fine."

"Oh." Raivis sighs in relief.

"Look, I just"-

"Can you please lower your voice? We're on public transportation." My phone call is interrupted by an annoyed-looking man around my age. He has scruffy golden hair, thick eyebrows and emerald eyes.

"Bye," I mutter, hanging up. I turn to the person who told me to be quieter. "Now, that was a little rude, wasn't it?" I ask.

"Sorry, but I think being a public nuisance is rude as well."

"I was talking to someone!" I defend myself, pissed off at this nosy guy. He has a light British accent and he's leaning against the window, watching as raindrops splatter on the glass, the occasional light flickering in the dark night.

"Your girlfriend is not that important," the guy says, raising a thick eyebrow at me. "Someone like you? You'll be over her in, what, two weeks? Three at the most?"

"That wasn't my girlfriend," I whisper, feeling the pressure in my face that tells me tears are coming. "And I'm not like that."

"Oh. I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to make you"-

"Next time," I growl, wiping years before they can fall, "why don't you stick to your own freaking business?"

As soon as I get home to my apartment, I plop on the couch, heat up a pizza, turn on the TV and call Ivan.

"Dude," I say around a mouthful of pepperoni.

"Alfred. How'd it go?"

"She has a boyfriend!"

"Huh?" I hear Ivan walking around. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would she be so nice to me? Do you know who it is?"

"Not in person," I say. "Some guy named Raivis Galante."

I hear Ivan breathe in sharply.

"What?"

"Raivis in one of my employees," Ivan says. "I see him at work every day."

"Wow. Small world." Want to know a secret? I used to like Ivan. Maybe now that Katyusha's taken, I'll give him a shot, 'cause I'm not the type of guy who will break up couples. It's not very mature, either.

I hang up and continue watching TV. Ivan and I have been close friends since The Day. I'm sure Ivan remembers this, too. If he doesn't, it's obvious he doesn't like me as much as I like him.

It was the first day of seventh grade. People still had that summer feeling, and the day was pretty slow, but also fast at the same time. Huh? Yeah, I don't get it either.

Some kids were shoving me around and I ended up with a bloody nose. They just left me, lying on the pavement near the outside of the school. The bell had already rung, and people were already gone, on their way home.

Ivan walked up to me. I had always hated him since kindergarten when we first met. Snotty little rich boy who didn't have to do anything at all.

"Are you here to make fun of me?" I spat, wiping my nose. There was blood on the sidewalk.

Ivan held out his hand to me. And he pulled me up. And he said, "Heroes shouldn't let themselves get beat up like that, right?"

And I said I guess so, and Ivan walked me over to his house. We had dinner- and by dinner I don't mean fast food or instant- and his parents adored me and his house was big and perfect. By the time I had to go home, I was sad.

But I was also almost positive that that day, I had fallen in love with Ivan.


	3. Mathias Køhler

MATHIAS KØHLER

Hey there, the name's Mathias Køhler. You want to hear my story, don't ya? Don't ya?

Ya don't?

Eh, well, you're gonna hear anyways!

"Sorry, what did you say your name was again?" I sift through my files. "Luke?"

"Lukas," the man seated beside me says, his face devoid of any emotion. No anger, excitement, nervousness. Ah, I remember when I was new at this whole office thing. But this Lukas hides his expressions well.

"Well then! Since ol' Mr. Luddy told me to mentor ya while you're new to the company, welcome! Any questions?" Since I've worked for Ludwig Beilschmidt- my boss and the manager of the company- for a few years, and I got on his good side (if he has one), I'm assigned to help out newbies 'till they know what they're doing.

"Who's Luddy?"

"Ahh! Right! That's our boss, Ludwig Beilschmidt. Ya know, he gave you your interview? German accent? Kinda scary?" Though I'm wondering if this man even knows what fear is.

"Oh, right." Lukas nods. "So, what are we starting with today?"

"Our competition company... Dang those idiots... Err, sorry. Use this software. Just do what it tells you. We use this on a regular basis. I'll be right back."

As I'm walking the bathroom, I collide with someone.

"Oh, sorr- Berwald, you're back!" I exclaim, glancing at my friend. Berwald Oxenstierna, a co-worker, caught the flu and was out for three days.

"Y'."

"How are ya feelin'? A bit under the weather, no?"

"Y'. Bett'r now. Who's th't?" Berwald asks, pointing at Lukas. I look over. My eyes catch Lukas'.  
He looks away quickly.

He was watching us.

I adjust my tie. "That's Lukas Bondevik. He got hired while you we're out."

"Ahh, so Luddy g've y' 'nther apprentice?" Berwald looks amused.

"Yeah. I'm gonna use the restroom, okay? It's nice to see ya again, instead of lying around like a corpse."

"Flu, Mathias. Th' flu."

I sit back down and explain things to Lukas about the company, his jobs, which foods to not eat in the cafeteria, and everything else vital for survival here.

The elevator slides open with a _ding_, and out walks a muscular, blonde-haired blue-eyed man in a suit and tie who looks more suited for the military than some boring office job that he actually has.

"Kiku! You have yet to send me the new email with our product and whatnot! Send it soon."

A flustered Japanese man whose desk is closest to the elevator flinches. "Hai! Sorry, Beilschmidt-san!"

The only people on this floor- the eighth floor, to be exact- not scared of Ludwig are Berwald and Lukas. But I can't tell if Lukas is not scared or just really bad at portraying emotions. Once I said to Berwald that he and Luddy could pass as brothers, and then every day for the rest of the week my lunch went 'mysteriously' missing. And Berwald had the nerve to deny everything!

"Listen up, Floor Eight! Please, get everything done well!" Ludwig returns to the elevator, moving down to Floor Seven. As he leaves, people sigh in relief. Kiku Honda is frantically clicking on his laptop, no doubt getting that email to Luddy.

Lukas shakes his head. "That's not right."

"What's not?" I ask, sipping coffee. "The fact he just randomly stopped down here for no apparent reason? You're correct, that is so not right."

"How people are so scared of Luddy, or whatever you call him."

"You're not scared of him?" I laugh. "Weird. Are ya, like, that confident?"

"I'm not confident, but I do not let others hold fear over me. It is childish to be afraid of someone simply because they are trying to get a job done."

"I guess so." I shrug. "Say, did ya finish that?" I look over Lukas' shoulder. "Wow, you're done. You're not really new to this stuff, are ya?"

"No," Lukas says. "Not really."

I briefly wonder where Lukas is from and why he's here.

.,.,.,.,.,

As soon as I get to my apartment, I change into a T-shirt and shorts, grab a beer, and lie down on the couch, switching through TV channels. I take out my contacts and put on glasses instead. I never wear them in public, because, well, I don't know. I don't like them, I guess.

I'm not really expecting anything to happen, but I'm not _not _expecting anything to happen. Most of the time nothing does. I get up and go to bed.

In the morning, I get ready for work. Again. The days are all the same to me, blending together like sugar and coffee. For some people, they can tell the difference of the days, and their life is like water and oil. But let me tell ya, for me, it's not like that.

I live sort of a mindless-like life. I went through school without any real goals, I graduated college without any real goals. I settled down. And guess what? I still have no real goals.

Ah well. For all the people out there who are successful, there are a hundred of us who aren't.

When I get to the office, I hear quiet voices. At first, I think, _Great. Mindless _and _schizophrenic? What next, imagining little flying mint-colored bunnies dancing around my desk?_

I set down my laptop bag and realize the voices are in fact real. Two people whispering. I head back to a separate room where people keep the coffee and find Berwald and Lukas, that new person I'm supposed to be helping.

"Hey, I didn't know you two were here," I say. Berwald looks pissed off. I fill up my coffee cup. "What are you two talking about?"

"Berwald was just explaining some things about the company to me," Lukas says evenly. Berwald nods a little, and I swear I hear him give a tiny huff, like a kid who's just finished having a tantrum in a candy shop.

"Okay," I say, deciding to let it slip. "Is Luddy here yet?"

"He's g'nna b' late," Berwald says, coughing a little from his earlier flu.

"Late?!" I pretend to be suffocating. "_The _you-dummkopfs-better-be-on-time Ludwig Beilschmidt is... late?"

The corner of Berwald's mouth tilts up in a smile. He ruffles my already-pretty-messy hair.

If I had looked over some before going back to my desk with Berwald, I would have seen Lukas showing emotion- an emotion called anger. Or might one call it...

Jealousy?


	4. Stargazing

IVAN BRAGINSKY

"And this is where you'll be working..." A familiar Hungarian accent makes me look up from my computer.

"Ahh, Elizabeta," I mutter, drinking some of my coffee. "Showing Natalia Arlovskaya around, da?"

"Yup," Elizabeta replies, smiling. "I was just saying, since she's working in this department, she'll want to..." I tune out the rest of what Elizabeta's saying. Don't get the wrong idea, Elizabeta is very kind and helpful, but she doesn't work in my specialty, nor am I her boss, so I don't know her that well.

"...Beilschmidt," I hear Raivis say quietly. He's chatting with Eduard. Elizabeta and I look up suddenly. "What?"

"Who's Beilschmidt?" Natalia asks.

"He's the boss of our lead rival company," I say, leaning back in my chair. "Ludwig Beilschmidt."

"Y-Yeah," Elizabeta murmurs. "Real tough and real mean."

"I hear their company is launching a new product," Raivis says. "Supposedly it's going to be the breakout technology, or something."

I sigh. "Where did you hear that?"

"One of my friends just started working over there," Raivis says. "Lukas Bondevik."

I see Natalia stiffen, but her face remains as emotionless and sullen-looking as a robot's.

"Well, that's peachy," I growl. "But it's not our job to release products now, is it?"

"..." Raivis looks at me with large eyes, and I sigh.

"You know, Raivis, you"-

"Um, Natalia, do you want to see... um..." Elizabeta breaks in, obviously trying to keep a fight from starting. But there's nothing left for Natalia to see. "Err, nevermind. I'll be going now." I hear her steps rounding the corner, away from us.

"Where's Feliks?" I ask Toris, swallowing my anger. "He said he'd help us out with this stuff..."

"Sorry, Ivan, I don't know."

"Who's Feliks?" Natalia asks, her eyes vaguely interested.

"Um, he's my..." Feliks trails off.

"Partner?" Natalia suggests.

I burst out laughing, choking on my coffee. "Wh-wha... Toris and Feliks, partners?" I don't know if it's just because I didn't get enough sleep last night, but Natalia's little comment is hilarious, especially the way she says it so carelessly.

Toris blushes. "No, no, he's my cousin and my coworker..."

"Oh," Natalia says. "Sorry." She doesn't even look embarrassed.

"Oh, stop it," Eduard mutters, glancing at me, but he's fighting back a smile.

"Hey, Raivis," I say.

"Uh? Yes?"

"This Lukas guy... working for Beilschmidt? Who's he?"

Raivis drinks some of his coffee. "Don't know him that _that _well. Last time I talked to him, he was actually showing emotion. Something about being sad because he broke up with his long-term girlfriend... Three or four years, or something."

Natalia coughs.

"So, he found a job with their company, da?" I ask.

"Would appear so." Raivis has focused his attention back to his computer, so I go back to work, too. Every so often there's a sniffle or a cough, someone asking a question, occasional "Bless yous" and "Gesundheits".

I try to talk to Natalia a couple of times, but after receiving nothing but annoyed, cold expressions, I give up.

.,.,.,.,.,

_"That's the one they call Ursa Minor."_

_"Doesn't look like a bear to me. Looks like a friggin' frying pan."_

_"Well, bears used to have long tails."_

_"No, they didn't."_

_"The people who made up constellations thought they did."_

_I was star-gazing with Alfred, trying to point out different bunches of stars, but he didn't seem so interested._

_It was a long time ago, back in ninth grade, and he wasn't having the best time. He was popular for a little while, but soon his group abandoned him._

_"Well, they must have been blind," Alfred said grumpily. "Or they'd never seen a bear."_

_"Are you cold?" I asked, noticing Alfred was shivering._

_"No, I"-_

_Before he could argue, I wrapped my arms around him._

_"Hey! Stop it!" He yelled, trying to throw me off._

_"But aren't you cold?" I chuckled._

_Alfred snorted. "Yes, but this is weird!"_

_"Why is it weird? You are my friend, and I do not want you to be cold."_

_"Well, only boyfriends to that to their girlfriends, and we are obviously neither, so just get off! Plus it's weird 'cause you're a guy!"_

_I laughed, but let go._

_"Geez," muttered Alfred. "Ivan, you're such a weirdo."_

_"Da. I know."_

_"Ty glup," he spat._

_I laughed even harder at his pathetic attempt of insulting me. "Al, if you're gonna insult me in my native tongue, don't have the nerve to call me stupid."_

_"Yeah, fine, whatever." He laid back down on the quilt we had spread out, staring up at the sky. "Dude, high school sucks. I really hate..."_

_I let him vent, and he fell asleep like that, in the middle of the field with the stars burning above him._


	5. Guilt Trip

ALFRED JONES

"Sorry... I'm so sorry, aru..."

"Stop, Yao. It's alright. You just need to learn from your mistakes."

"Yes, sir," Yao mutters.

"Fine." I send him back to work. I have a job as an editor, and Yao's one of my employees. I know it sounds totally crazy- what the heck is Alfred Jones doing as an editor?- but once some popular classmate told me (back in high school, whoo) I was so illiterate and stupid I probably couldn't even use spell check to fix my Literature paper.

So, I set out to become an editor. It probably wasn't the best reason, but I'm alright at it.

"Ciao, Alfred," a sullen voice growls.

"Ah, Lovino," I laugh. Lovino Vargas is about my age, and my coworker, he's easily frustrated, has the mouth of a sailor, and nobody dares make a mistake when he's nearby. Even our boss is a little scared of him.

"Where's Miss Zwingli?" I ask, referring to the author whose book we're trying to get published.

"Williams got to work with her," Lovino mutters. Matthew Williams doesn't seem to particularly like Lovino or me, and he's always snatching the best authors from right under our noses, always writers who have high and popular sales. Not fair.

"Sucks," I say. "Well, who do I get to work with instead?"

"Some guy named Arthur Kirkland," Lovino replies. "He'll be here soon."

"Has he ever sold anything before?" I ask, only mildly interested.

"No," Lovino says. "Not at all. Actually, he's written newspaper stuff, but no actual novels."

"Hm," I say, now uninterested. "Well, that's cool, I guess. Who are you working with?" I try not to cringe at the thought of being stuck with Arthur Kirkland- if he hasn't sold a book, I'm just hoping his first novel skyrockets or something.

"You know, that bastard..."

"No, who?" I ask, only trying to bother him. I know who he's working with- Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Antonio writes romance novels, but he's so oblivious to real life love he wouldn't know it if it hit him in the face- which it did, in fact. Lovino's got a crush on the Spaniard, voicing it through colorful confessions.

Weird, right?

Lovino rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Someone'll probably ring you when Kirkland's arrived, you hear?"

"Yeah," I mumble as Lovino exits.

_Pfff, whatever. I bet this guy's gonna be a total failure- ehh, I shouldn't have that attitude._

"Mr. Jones, Arthur Kirkland is here," Yao says, jolting me out of my thoughts. He's standing in the doorway with a blonde-haired, green eyed...

...thick eyebrowed...

...guy from the train.

"Oh, shit!" I exclaim, clamping a hand over my mouth. Arthur looks shocked.

Yao raises an eyebrow. "You two know each other or something, aru?"

"No, not quite..." Arthur says. Yup, same guy. Same accent, eyebrows, everything. "Well, Yao, thanks very much," I say. "I'm sure we'll be fine, yeah? By the way, can you tell Lovino he forgot his manuscript in here?" I point nervously at the stack of paper on my desk.

"Sure, sure, aru," Yao says. "Bye."

"You were the wanker who was crying the other day," Arthur says, sitting down.

"Yeah, thanks," I growl haughtily. "I'm Alfred Jones, your editor. You know, the person you practically called a player?"

"Oh?" The genuine surprise on Arthur's face throws me off for a moment. "I... I did? I'm sorry. I just, I didn't expect you to have a steady job... normal life... you know?"

I snort softly. "You said... you... nevermind," I sigh. "Just show me what I'm working with here."

.,.,.,.,.

"No, I'm okay here. Trust me, I'll order some pizza, then hit the sack."

"Oh, you bastard, it'll be good for your soul."

"Dude, you've absolutely no place to lecture me about my... soul or whatever."

Lovino's trying to convince me to come drinking with him- it's Friday- but Arthur was such a pain in the ass all I want to do is lie down, take an Aspirin, and relax.

"How's Antonio?" I mumble, knowing this will get him to shut up.

"Oh..." The other end fumbles. "You know, you know."

"Night, Lovi."

"Fine, whatever. I'll have to go by myself!"

Just when I think Lovino's going to hang up, those words make me stop. Guilt trip!

"Oh, sheesh! I'll come, you baby!" I growl.

"Yeah, that's more like it, Al. Meet me at Art's in forty-five minutes," he says, talking about the local bar.

I hang up, sighing. I never did like Italians all that much.

Okay, fine. You got me on that one.

.,.,.,.,.

My head aches.

"Ow..." I roll over and drop onto the floor, landing hard.

I sit up. I'm in Lovino's apartment. He must have dropped me on the couch, but my head is pounding and my arms and legs are sore.

He walks in. "Al, you were literally passed out... remember anything?"

"No," I mumble. "I've got a headache..."

"And I'll make you a peppermint shake. Be grateful," he complains. He knows those things help out with my hangovers.

"What happened?"

"You remember...?" Lovino prompts.

"Nothing at all. Damn, just tell me what happened."

It's kinda weird- Lovi's always partying with me, but he never seems to pass out or anything. Maybe he's not drinking as much as I think he is? That's alright, as long as he's there to have my back.

"Oh, don't worry," Lovino says, smiling. Well, for Lovino, a smile is an almost-smiling wincing facial expression, but he comes pretty close. "Nothing weird... well, actually. Arthur Kirkland was there, too."

"And?" I growl. "What?"

Lovino stretches. "Oh, nothing big, it's just now he thinks you're in love with him."


	6. Arranged Marriage

MATHIAS KØHLER

"Oh, good! That sounds fun," I say, grinning from ear to ear.

Berwald nods, huffs a little. "Ja, it'll be, Mathias. We 'aven't had lunch t'gether in a while."

"Yeah, I know. We can leave in fifteen minutes."

"Leave for what?" Lukas asks. Kiku Honda looks up too.

"Lunch," I say. "Berwald and I, we're headed to that new place down the street."

"Køhler-san, pick me up a salad?" Kiku asks.

I nod. "Yeah, sure. No problem. With extra tomatoes and red cabbage and..."

"Lettuce!" Finishes Heracles Karpusi, one of my coworkers. He's always being scolded for falling asleep at his desk, but I guess he's carrying his weight because he's never been fired.

Everyone in the office laughs, and even Berwald smiles gently.

I get my jacket on and get ready to go. It's not even that far into winter, but the freezing cold winds make it feel like the North Pole.

"Mathias and Berwald, dating?" I hear the whispers as we leave the office.

"Um, Berwald, did you hear that?" I ask, annoyed.

"Y'," Berwald murmurs. "It's not a big deal, though."

"But... Oh, nevermind."

.,.,.,.,.,.

"Mathias?"

"Eh? Yeees?"

"Can I walk with you?" It's Lukas. I'm getting ready to leave- I stayed late. The stars are out, the moon high in the sky, the office lights even more blinding. The only people still on my floor are Kiku and Lukas, but I guess now he's leaving.

"How are you?"

"What do you care?" He asks gently.

"What the heck, huh? Tryna be polite, and this is what I get..." I exhale loudly, running my fingers through my hair.

"Anyways, you and Berwald?" Lukas asks, in a tone of voice I can't recognize.

"What about Berwald and me?"

"Are you two together, as the rest of our coworkers said?"

I cough. "What the heck? No, of course not. First off, it's just weird to date someone you work with, alright? Love and work, keep those separate, or it'll cause problems for everyone, not just you, ya know?"

"Mmm, yes, I suppose..." His eyes are narrowed, and he has an almost sulky look.

"What's wrong?" I ask, expecting him to flip me off again, or whatever it was he did a couple of minutes ago.

"I... I... lov"-

"MATHIAS, GET BACK HERE!"

"Luddy?" I growl softly, before turning around. In the moonlight, shadows falling across the German's face, he looks just as scary as ever, if not more, his piercing blue eyes glaring at me.

"Oh, what now? I put in extra hours! What do you want now?" I complain.

"I just need you to look over this at home, okay?" He dumps a huge stack of papers into my arms.

"_Nej! _What the heck is this? Fine, whatever. Goodbye."

I keep walking and look at Lukas. "Uh, sorry about that. What were you saying?"

"Nevermind."

.,.,.,.,.,.

_Arranged marriage._

Marriage is a beautiful thing, white veils and roses and love. Arranged isn't that bad of a word, it can mean responsibility and organization, so overall it's pretty important. But putting the two words together?

No. Never.

Yet it's happening. To me.

"Because why?"

"Mathias, you're twenty-three now. Don't you think it's about time..."

"Please, mother. No, no. I don't want th"-

"Your father and I," my mother breaks in sharply, "have already decided this for you."

"That's so... that's so..." My hands are shaking so much I'm surprised I haven't dropped my phone. "Are you still stuck in the thirteenth century or something? You said it, I'm twenty-three. I don't want to, okay? If I do, it's because I meet"-

"Don't argue, Mathias. You're doing this. We've found someone."

"Mother, please. Just let me choose, if you're forcing me..."

"No, Mathias. As I said, your father and I found someone already. She's pretty, nice, and financially stable."

"No, please, don't do this. Don't. You can't. You won't."

"I can, and I will," my mother replies angrily. "Mathias, don't you get this? You waited too long, and now you've no say in the matter. Stop complaining."

"I waited _too long?" _I exclaim. "I didn't wait too long! I only graduated college and got a job"-

"Mathias, listen. Had you met someone before, we wouldn't be doing this."

"Well, the person I love is out there somewhere! And it's most certainly not the bitch you're picking out for me! And by forcing me to marry a stupid, ignorant, wretched"-

"Mathias Køhler. I will _not _tolerate you talking like that about _any girl, _especially not the one you'll be marrying."

"I don't want to, okay? Love isn't something you can just... I don't know... force upon me! Are you doing this because you think I'm too lonely? Or does this girl have money? Is that all you want?" My voice drops to an angry whisper. "I know you never loved me. So stop trying to do whatever it is you're doing. If you want more money, just come and take everything I have. Don't force me to do this."

"I'm not discussing this any further, Mathias. Goodbye."

My mother hangs up before I can say anything. I glance around the office. Nobody heard the conversation, but I feel awful.

"If you'll excuse me," I say quietly. "I'll be right back."

I start walking to the bathroom. It's so not fair. I know life isn't fair, I know that. But parents forcing their child to get an _arranged marriage, _in a time like this? I'm more worried about work, income, things that matter.

I don't have time for this shit.

I get a text from my mother.

_She is waiting for you at the coffee shop. Be there within thirty minutes. Do not stand her up._

I reply angrily: _So what if I do? I will._

To which I get: _You won't, Mathias. I know you won't._

I sigh and head back to my desk. Ludwig looks up slowly; he's here today.

"Ludwig, I need to go early today. It's really... an emergency."

Lukas and Berwald look up, watching.

"Ja, well, you put in extra yesterday... fine, go. I hope everything's all right," Ludwig says, not looking up from his laptop.

"I'm fine. Thanks."

As I walk out, my shoes tapping lightly on the empty hallway, I blink slowly. I realize I'm crying. Well, only a little, but still.

I stop when I hear footsteps behind me.

"Mathias?"


	7. Coffee Break!

IVAN BRAGINSKY

"Where's Raivis?"

"Called in sick," Eduard replies.

"That's oo bad," I say. "I heard some case of something was going around, da? Did Feliks show?"

"I'm here, bitches!" The door opens and Feliks struts in, acting like he's on the runway. I've always found him a little far out, but you know, he does good work, and that's fine.

"Sooo, Luddy's company launched software now?" Feliks leans over my shoulder, reading what I'm doing, and I swat him away.

"Da," I say. "It doesn't matter."

"Why are we rivals again?" Natalia pipes up. "We don't even do the same things- our companies both deal with technology, yes, but other than that? There's no resemblance. We fix things, they make things. Right?"

"It's more than that," Toris says, casting a glance at Eduard. Eduard nods nervously.

"Well, what is it, then?" Natalia asks.

Feliks raises an eyebrow. "Sweetie, maybe you should ask that when Ivan here _isn't _in the room."

"Shut up, Feliks," I say. "It's fine. You go ahead, tell Natalia. Don't care. In fact, I need to use the restroom."

"Oh..." Eduard looks like he's about to say something, but then closes his mouth. Toris shakes his head and Feliks begins telling Natalia about the year-long rivalry between two companies that aren't similar.

.,.,.,.,.,

"Excuse me?"

"Oh?" I looked over to see a tall, muscular man. Of course, I was still a little taller than him, but Alfred had dubbed me The Giant anyways.

"Sorry," he said. "You look like someone I know."

"Hmm," I replied. I was at a coffee shop before work, one of my favorite places to hang out or grab something to drink with Alfred before we both dashed off.

"Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead," I said, motioning at the empty chair. "All yours."

"Where do you work?"

"Tech... Um, nevermind. You probably have not heard of us? We fix technology and viruses, da. Braginsky."

"Oh?" The man's eyes widened in surprise. "Interesting. I work too with technology, but I create software. I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt."

I shook his hand. "Ivan Braginsky."

He gave me a look, like, _You're THE Ivan Braginsky? Oh, nein._

He shook his head, as though not to be outdone, "Well I'm pretty sure my company still makes in a bigger profit..."

"Excuse me?" I said. "I don't think so."

And that day a beautiful, hateful rivalry was born.

.,.,.,.,.,

"And then Ivan was like, 'Oh nyet! Bitch did not just go there!' Then he started throwing gummy bears and mascara at Ludd"-

"Okay, Feliks, that did _not _happen," I mutter. When I get back Feliks is still talking to Natalia, Toris and Eduard (even though the last two know the story- the real story...).

"Hey, Ivan!"

"What?"

"Emil Steilsson said he wanted me working down here now."

"Um, seriously?" Toris says.

Emil Steilsson is Feliks' boss, and though I'm pretty fond of him, he doesn't seem to entirely trust me. I sigh. "Sure, you can sit next to Eduard."

"Woo! It's gonna be a freaking party in here!" cheers the excited Polish man.

Eduard glares at me, and Toris pats his shoulder akwardly.

Feliks leaves to get his stuff and Natalia waves me over. Toris and Eduard are paying no attention.

"Da?"

"I don't like him," Natalia whispers.

"Feliks? Why not?"

"Seriously, Ivan? He's annoying." She glares fixedly at her computer. "I don't need those kind of distractions."

"Natalia, he's not that bad," I say, even though I'm not too fond of his wild stories. "He just takes some... getting used to."

"Whatever." She flips her light hair over her shoulder.

"Hey," I say. "Wanna get coffee tomorrow morning?"

She pauses. "Excuse me?"

"You can see the very place competition was born!"

"Fine," she says. "Tomorrow, 7:00."

"Great." I smile, and she doesn't smile back, but she doesn't frown, either.


End file.
